The Quick and the Dead
by TwinaturalContest
Summary: What if the Wolves were only tribal legends? When Laurent arrives in Forks, the Quileutes call outside help: Sam & Dean Winchester. Slaying a random vampire isn't difficult, but battling one w/a vendetta requires assistance from surprising sources, including a broken-hearted girl who taunts death. When Bella meets kindred spirit Sam, will her outlook on life change? NMxSPNs3/AU


Entry for "TwiNatural Crossover Contest"

Title: The Quick and the Dead  
Pairing: Bella x Sam**  
**Rating: M for language and violence  
Prompts: song: Hurt, Johnny Cash; photo 11 (flames)

**Summary:** What if the Wolves were only tribal legends? When Laurent arrives in Forks, the Quileutes call outside help: Sam & Dean Winchester. Slaying a random vampire isn't difficult, but battling one w/a vendetta requires assistance from surprising sources, including a broken-hearted girl who taunts death. When Bella meets kindred spirit Sam, will her outlook on life change? NMxSPNs3/AU

**Playlist:** _Peace of Mind_ (Boston), _Fly By Night_ (Rush), _Burnin' Sky _(Bad Company), _Hurt_ (Johnny Cash), _If I Die Tomorrow_ (Motley Crue), _Burning for You Blue_ (Oyster Cult)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their  
respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of  
either media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this work.

**A/N:** In the _Supernatural_ world, this 'episode' would take place between episode 12 and 13 in season 3. I know the years don't quite match up, but the dates (month/day) do, so we'll just pretend. In this scenario, Bella (from _New Moon_) is 18, Sam and Dean (from SPNs3) are 24 and 29, respectively. Canon _New Moon_ events follow the timeline (month/day-wise) as outlined out in the Twilight Lexicon (again, just pretend the years match up). Obviously, there are some differences here: the Wolves don't exist in this world; the general outline of events from both _New Moon_ and _Eclipse_ have been compressed into 2-3 weeks of time; none of the Cullens return; there is no vampire army; and this story presents a clearly alternative outcome to the entire Bella/Laurent/Victoria situation.

I've been on a Supernatural kick lately. Never imagined that I would write a SPN FF—I didn't think I was creative enough to conceive and execute a storyline—but when this contest was announced, an idea immediately popped into my mind. With all the supernatural nuances in the _Twilight_ saga, this mash-up feels totally natural to me. Hope you enjoy!

**~tQatD~**

The sky was just beginning to lighten when Dean slipped out the back entrance of the library. He hurried to his car, which was parked across the street. It was time to get the hell out of this sleepy little town before anyone was alerted to their presence here.

When he neared the Impala a mischievous smile broke on his lips. Sam was slumped to the side, fast asleep. Slowing to a walk, Dean crept up to the passenger side.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" he shouted into the open window, banging the roof for good measure.

Sam jerked awake, flailing awkwardly in the seat, eyes blinking in confusion. There was a crease in his cheek from where it had been resting on the door frame, and his hair was plastered to his head. Dean laughed at his brother's disheveled appearance

"I found us a job," he stated. He tossed a folded newspaper through the window and onto Sam's lap.

Sam pushed himself upright and swiped at his eyes, chasing away the last bit of sleep. "Where are we?"

"Wyoming."

"And _you're_ doing research?"

"Someone had to, sleeping beauty," Dean answered with a tsk.

Sam frowned. "A bit early for the library, isn't it?"

"Not for those of us with an all-access pass."

Dean patted his pocket, where he kept the lock-pick. With a final tap on the roof of the car, Dean stepped away. Sam shrugged, then picked up the paper and perused the article Dean had obviously intended that he read. It detailed a grisly death in northern Washington.

"So, what've we got?" Sam asked as Dean fired the engine. "Wendigo?"

Dean shook his head, then handed Sam a stack of papers he'd printed out inside the library. Sam skimmed through the top few pages. The articles described multiple, similar deaths over the past month. All had occurred in national parks in the Pacific Northwest.

"Amarok?"

"Nope."

"Quanlier?"

"Un uh."

"Then what's killing people in the woods?" Sam asked, frustration evident in his tone.

"Vampires."

"What? Vampires don't work like this, Dean. They have nests in highly populated areas where a few missing people won't go noticed or off the beaten path, like Lenore's coven. And they work stealthily. These deaths were brutal. Conspicuous. And spread out, not localized." Sam continued ruffling through the articles. "There was a lot of blood at each crime scene, so authorities attributed the deaths to animal attacks. All the victims had been drained." He shuffled the papers around again, frowning. "Hmm… That's weird. There's a path, from Alaska to Washington."

"Yup."

"Not very subtle."

"Nope."

"And you think this," Sam shook the papers, "is vampires?"

"I _know_ this is vampires. But you're right. These vampires are different. Something new." He frowned slightly. "Or maybe more accurately, something old. Something so old, we've never seen it before."

"And you know this how?"

Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "I've got my ways."

"_Dean_…"

"Damn. You really _can't_ handle it when I know something you don't," Dean gloated.

Sam crossed his arms on his chest and didn't speak. Dean chuckled.

"Fine. You wanna know? Bobby called while you were getting your beauty rest. Satisfied?"

Sam nodded.

"Of course, I could barely hear his side of the conversation over your loud-ass snoring."

"I don't snore," Sam muttered.

Dean laughed loudly this time. "Yeah, you do. Wanna hear?" He pulled his phone from his pocket, hit a button, then passed it to Sam. A video was playing—Sam sleeping, mouth wide open and cutting some very impressive z's.

Sam scowled fiercely. "I can't believe that you recorded that."

"I wanted video-graphic proof for when you accused me of lying. Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean cracked a cocky grin.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. You're right, Dean. I snore. Loudly. I admit it. Is that what you want to hear?"

After his brother's assertive nod, Sam continued, "Now, tell me about the vamps."

Dean switched back to business. "An old, native American acquaintance of Bobby's contacted him. The tribe's got history with this particular breed of bloodsuckers, so he recognized the signs. Unfortunately, it's been years since they last had direct contact with the leeches, so none of the old hunters are still alive. They asked for help."

"And Bobby called us?"

"Bobby called us."

"So where're we going?"

Dean pulled off the main street and turned west onto the highway. He punched the accelerator, causing the engine to growl loudly.

"Forks, Washington."

**~tQatD~**

"You sure this is right, Sam?"

"GPS says ten more miles. This road should dead end at the reservation. Then we look for Billy's house."

"Great," Dean muttered, glancing warily out the window. His scowl deepened and his fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "Something just feels… _wrong_… here. It's eerie. And way too green. This isn't natural. It's like the land that time forgot or something."

Sam rolled his eyes, familiar and comfortable with his brother's grumbling. They'd been on the road for two days straight, only stopping at the motel in Forks long enough to check in and grab a shower. It was late afternoon, and they were now searching for the Quileute reservation and Billy Black. Sam figured they probably should've gotten a bit of shut-eye, but after three idle weeks, both were itching to start a new job.

Fifteen minutes later, they entered the reservation.

"Where're we going, Sammy?"

The dual pine tree landmark Billy had indicated when they spoke on the phone appeared suddenly. "There," Sam directed.

Dean turned into the drive, and a moment later, a small, red house came into view. A young boy was sitting on the porch, obviously awaiting their arrival; he trotted down the stairs as soon as the car came to a stop.

"Sam and Dean?" he asked when the doors opened.

They nodded.

"We've been expecting you. Awesome wheels!" he enthused.

"Thanks, man. Rebuilt her myself," Dean responded, caressing the roof of the Impala as he would a lover. "She's my baby."

"Cool. I'm rebuilding one myself. I'm Jacob, by the way. Billy's son."

The brothers shook hands with the boy. His long hair made him look younger, but he was almost as tall as Sam. Dean talked with him for a few minutes about carburetors and the joys of old engines, until a man in a wheelchair rolled out onto the front porch. The guys walked over to the porch.

"Billy Black?" Dean asked.

"That's me," he responded, extending his hand.

Dean and Sam introduced themselves and shook hands with the elder.

"So, what we got?" Dean asked.

Billy chuckled. "Anxious to get going?"

"Yes, sir," Sam answered.

Dean nodded. "We've been sitting on our asses far too long. We're ready for a little action."

"Good," Billy answered. "We can use the help. I've called a council meeting—the other elders and potential hunters will be here shortly. This way, you'll get all the relevant information at once."

"Sounds like a good plan."

**~tQatD~**

An hour later, the entire tribe had assembled around a bonfire in Billy's back yard. It wasn't a large group, and Dean was immediately concerned by the lack of able-bodied men—every male was either well over forty or under twenty years of age. The boys were all solidly built, obviously ready and willing to participate in an expedition, but he doubted any of them would be helpful for a hunt.

Over the course of the next several hours, Billy and the other Quileute elders shared several of their tribal legends.

The first concerned 'spirit warriors', early tribal members who could morph into spirits to defend the village.

According to lore, in a time of great oppression, the spirit of the earliest spirit warrior, Taha Aki, was separated from his body. In an act of desperation, his spirit merged with a large wolf, transforming them both into something more than either individual component—the first shifter. Under normal circumstances, he appeared as a man, but in times of danger, he would become a warrior wolf. After the conversion, this man no longer aged. He fathered many sons, and some of them found that after they came of age, they too could transform into wolves in order to defend the village from external threats. After many years, Taha Aki decided to live out the remainder of his days as a human and ceased transforming into a wolf. Only then did he begin grow old.

The second legend detailed the appearance of the Cold Ones and the sacrifice of Taha Aki's third wife.

When several members of a neighboring tribe went missing, the wolves hunted for the culprit. They encountered a strange, sweet scent that burned their noses. The group split—half went home to report what they had found. The others never returned. A year later, more people went missing, and the wolves again tracked the sickly-sweet scent. Only one warrior returned, with an unbelievable tale: The perpetrator was a man with ice-cold, granite-hard skin and glowing red eyes who drank human blood. The creature had been almost impossible to kill; it had taken all their strength to dismember it. But that wasn't enough. Only fire had destroyed it absolutely.

"They called it The Cold One, the Blood Drinker, and they lived in fear that it was not alone."

It wasn't. The creature's mate came seeking revenge. The Cold Woman was beautiful, like a goddess of the dawn, the sun glittering off her white skin. She killed all the witnesses before they realized what she was. When Taha Aki learned of the death of his final living son, he transformed into a wolf one last time. He was able to destroy the cold woman only when his wife sacrificed herself by falling on her knife and distracting the blood-drinker with the scent of her blood.

"Over time, descendants of Taha Aki no longer became wolves when they came of age. Only periodically, if a cold one was near, would the wolves return. But as generations passed, the threat lessened, and the need for the wolves disappeared," Billy concluded. "Now, no one knows if we could once transform into actual wolves. I'd like to believe it's the truth."

"We do have the relics left by our ancestors to fight the Cold Ones, if necessary." Billy reached for the canvas bag hanging from the arm of his chair and passed it to Dean. "No one outside the tribe has ever seen these before."

Dean opened the bag and reached inside. He pulled out a short length of heavy cord and a small spear tipped with what appeared to be a large wolf tooth.

"We have never used these. But that doesn't mean we haven't encountered the Cold Ones."

Sam's head snapped up from where he'd been studying the rope. "You've actually seen them? The Cold Ones?"

Billy nodded. "About seventy years ago, my grandfather, Ephraim Black, had dealings with a coven of Cold Ones. They claimed they were different than those that came before, that they didn't drink human blood. They struck a treaty with the tribe, allowing them to live in the area as long as they killed no humans."

Sam nodded. "We had a run in with a similar coven last year. They drank the blood of animals and weren't a threat to humans as far as we could tell. But… if your 'Cold Ones' don't feed on humans, what's responsible for all the killings?"

"Not all have changed. I believe the vampires making these kills are not part of the coven with which we have a treaty—they departed the area six months ago with no indication that they would ever return."

"Wait," Jacob interrupted, an incredulous look on his face. "The Cullens? _They_ struck the treaty with Ephraim? It's all real? Not just a scary story?"

Billy frowned at his son's interruption. "Yes, it most definitely is real. The Cullens _are_ Cold Ones."

Jacob looked stunned.

"They were here for about three years without any… _apparent_… problems," Billy continued. "Unlike the Cullens, however, the blood-drinkers responsible for the recent deaths _are_ a threat. Unfortunately, we have no spirit wolves like our ancestors. All we have are legends. This is the first time many of the boys have heard the stories since the killings began. It changes everything to realize some old tribal stories aren't just tall tales. Unfortunately, we have no experience in dealing with this kind of threat. We were hoping you could help."

Dean nodded enthusiastically. "We do have extensive expertisein vampire slaying."

"These aren't typical vampires," Billy warned. "The sun doesn't hurt them, and a stake to the heart won't kill them."

"That _never_ works," Dean scoffed. "It's a myth. The only way to kill a vamp is to chop off its head."

The younger kids gasped at Dean's blunt statement. Sam elbowed him.

"What?" Dean shrugged. "It's the truth."

"Truth it may be," Billy commented, "but you won't be able to chop the head off a Cold One with traditional weapons; their skin is as hard as granite."

"It sparkles, too." Dean chortled.

"_Dean_!" Sam hissed.

"_What_?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Could you be respectful, please?"

They stared for a moment, eyes sending silent messages. After a moment, Dean relented, nodding slightly. Sam turned to Billy.

"If our weapons won't work, what will?"

**~tQatD~**

Dean tossed the keys onto the table when they entered the motel room.

"What ya think, Sammy?"

"Of what? The legends?"

"All of it. Sparkling vampires. 'Spirit wolves.'" Dean used air quotes.

"Well, there's often truth behind legends." Sam sat down and pulled out his computer. "There's lore from multiple cultures about the connection between vampires and wolves. In some legends, wolves are daytime protectors of vampires, watching over them while they sleep. In others, wolves are slaves, forced to do their bidding. If we're talking werewolves, even more lore exists about a rivalry. According to Greek mythology, the conflict is thousands of years old; an ancient war. It makes sense to me. Why not have 'spirit wolves' that defend local populations against vampires?"

Dean cocked his head. "Hmmm…"

"Why? What do _you_ think?"

"Honestly?"

Sam nodded.

"I think it's all crap. Vampires with sparkling skin?" He laughed. "Hell, Sam. A vamp is a vamp. We already know how to hunt and kill 'em. I say we track this bloodsucker from the last crime scene and take care of business."

Sam frowned at his brother's sarcastic tone, but he agreed with the sentiment. "So, tomorrow we hunt?"

Dean clapped his hands together. "Tomorrow we hunt."

**~tQatD~**

It was easier than expected to begin the hunt.

Another death occurred overnight.

The entire _Forks Sentinel_ was dedicated to detailing the recent deaths or theorizing about the cause of them. There was also advice for campers and hikers, warning about safety. Sam and Dean poured over the paper and eavesdropped on the residents' chatter while they ate breakfast at the local diner.

Assuming identities as National Parks Services agents, Sam and Dean accessed the latest crime scene—a campsite about thirty miles into Olympic National Park. It was messy. A snapped neck. A _lot_ of blood on the ground, mimicking an animal attack. And once again, an exsanguinated body. Observing the scene, they found several sets of what appeared to be bare human footprints. While the police and park rangers were busy studying the most obvious false trails, the brothers found the real trail and began tracking.

They'd caught up with him about an hour ago, but they'd yet to get a good look. They'd been more concerned with remaining undetected. When the vampire paused, raising his face to a weak beam of sunlight that penetrated the dense canopy, Dean was brought up short in astonishment.

"You've got to be kidding me. They actually _do_ sparkle. I thought the old man was trying to pull one over on us." Dean shook his head and snorted. "Sparkling vampires. Who woulda thunk it?"

After a moment, it passed back into the thick undergrowth of the forest. They waited to make sure he hadn't detected them, then resumed their pursuit. When they finally located the vamp again, he'd just stepped into a clearing. He was an impressive specimen—tall, dark, solid—and from what they'd seen, he was faster than any vamp they'd previously faced. They began plotting their attack.

Then they noticed the small, dark-haired girl standing on the other side of the clearing. The vamp had obviously seen her, too.

"Crap. This isn't good. No way we can get there in time," Dean whispered harshly.

"We have to try."

Dean fingered the trigger of his gun while Sam readied the machete for use. Moving as silently as possible, they raced through the trees. But it wasn't the blood bath they envisioned. In fact, even more frightening, the girl addressed the vampire as if she knew him.

"What's she doing?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"I don't know."

Remaining hidden behind the overgrown foliage, they watched curiously. It was an odd exchange. The girl greeted the vampire by what they assumed was his name—Laurent—and at first, she seemed pleased to see him, but her comfort quickly morphed into uneasiness. They couldn't hear what was said, but both recognized when the pleasantries, such as they were, turned into something sinister. The girl was obviously panicked, but she made no effort to escape. Instead, she braced herself, preparing for the worst.

"That's our cue, Sammy."

Stepping into the clearing, Dean lifted his gun and took aim. He yelled at the girl standing frozen in front of the vampire.

"Are you just gonna stand there like a freaking idiot and let him _eat_ you? Run!"

As he spoke, he fired. Dean knew his aim was good, saw the puff of smoke appear on the predator's chest, but it had absolutely no effect.

Laurent's gaze dropped from the girl to his chest then slid sideways to Dean. He laughed. In a blink of an eye, he'd knocked the girl to the ground and crossed the meadow, plucking the gun from Dean's hand and pinning his arms painfully together.

"It appears that _you_ are the idiot," the vampire scoffed. "This gun won't hurt me, and it sure doesn't scare me." He closed his eyes and leaned in, inhaling deeply.

"Dude. Did you just… _sniff_… me?" Dean asked, astounded.

Laurent grinned, sharp teeth glittering in the fading afternoon light. "You're not nearly as tempting as Bella," he indicated the girl, who was running toward the tree line. "But you'll do. For an appetizer. Then I'll find the girl. She's loud, clumsy. It won't be hard."

"Only an appetizer? I'm offended. C'mon… That girl? She's a little bit of nothing. Me… Well, I'm definitely more than a mouthful," Dean stated smugly. "Sam? A little help here?"

While Dean was talking, Sam had snuck up behind the vamp. He slammed the machete into Laurent's neck. But instead of the quick and easy kill both brothers had anticipated, the blade screamed, then shattered into tiny shards of sharp iron. The reverberation shimmered up Sam's arm, causing him to grimace in pain.

Sam and Dean spoke simultaneously. "What the hell?"

With an irritated snarl, Laurent smacked Dean upside the head, knocking him down. He then whirled around and slapped what was left of the machete from Sam's hand. Grabbing Sam by the throat, he hoisted him into the air.

"Will you never learn? These… _weapons_… are not effective against us."

Sam struggled against the strength of Laurent's fist around his neck. His eyes rolled up, then he went limp. As Sam slid from Laurent's grasp, the vampire turned back to where he had left Dean. The ground was empty.

"You want to play hide and seek?" Closing his eyes, the vampire inhaled deeply. "Ready or not, here I come…"

Dean didn't run very far before doubling back to the clearing. He fell to his knees by the bag that Sam had dropped. Sam was gone, probably off locating the girl. He could only hope his brother found her quickly. Dean only had time to grab one item from the bag. Pocketing his weapon, he turned around just as Laurent tackled him to the ground. Dean fell, the breath knocked from his lungs by the stone weight of the vampire who now had him pinned.

"What did I tell you about weapons?" Laurent asked. "They're pointless. No weapon devised by man can defeat us. It's useless to resist." He smiled menacingly. "Besides, it'll hurt more if you do."

"It wouldn't hurt at all if you'd just let me go," Dean suggested sardonically. Then he smiled invitingly. "Hey, man. I can pretend that this didn't happen, that I never saw you. Vampires? Pshaw. Just a myth…"

Laurent laughed. "It's too late for that. I cannot let you escape. We have rules, you know. But… We're not all savages. I don't want to make this more painful than it needs be. Close your eyes. I'll make it quick. I promise"

Dean sucked in a ragged breath, the fight apparently leaving his body. His arms fell to the ground. Moving slowly, his right hand inched towards his jacket pocket. When his fingers closed around the item within, he allowed his eyelids to fall as if in defeat.

"Yes," Laurent cooed encouragingly as Dean turned his head, giving the vampire access to his neck.

As Laurent leaned in to bite him, Dean raised the syringe and squirted the dull reddish-black liquid it contained into the vampire's open mouth. Laurent sputtered, his hands tightening painfully on Dean's shoulders.

"What the hell…" he wheezed.

"Dead man's blood, mother sucker. It won't kill you, but it _will_ slow you down."

Laurent continued to choke and gasp, going limp in the process and falling on Dean, who struggled under the deadweight now holding him captive. He was still trying to push Laurent's body away when he heard Sam calling.

"Over here," he wheezed.

He was becoming exhausted from his struggles when Sam finally emerged into the clearing. Unfortunately, the girl was with him.

"Stay here," Sam told the girl, before running to Dean.

"The rope, Sam," Dean implored.

Sam pulled the dark, wire-like cord from his pocket. "You sure this will work?"

"No. But the old man _was_ right about everything else. Hopefully he was right about this as well."

Sam nodded, wrapping the rigid rope around the vampire's neck. Laurent managed to choke out another weak laugh.

"You boys never learn," he rasped. "I told you, none of your weapons will work on us. We're impenetrable."

Sam tightened his grip and yanked on the rope. An ear-rending screech filled the clearing as the rope worked its way into the granite flesh of the vampire's neck.

"What the—" Laurent choked on his words, his hands coming up to claw weakly at the rope that was now embedded deeply. His limp body jerked each time Sam tugged on it.

"That rope wasn't manufactured with human materials, you parasite," Dean sneered. "It's woven from Quileute wolf hair. The only thing your breed is susceptible to."

Laurent's eyes widened. "How do you—"

"Guess your secrets aren't so secret after all, huh? Too bad, leech. But I promise, it'll be quick." Dean winked at the stunned vampire, then coughed when the stone body bounced against his chest yet again. He rolled his eyes. "Any day now, Sam."

Sam pulled with all his might.

"Argh!"

With a final, horrifying shriek, the rope pulled taut and the vampire's head popped from his body. It rolled a few feet away to stare at them with shocked, blood-red eyes. The headless body collapsed onto Dean. The blood rushing in his ears from both the weight smothering him and the adrenaline in his system blocked out the sound of yet another horrified scream, but Dean saw Sam's head jerk around.

"Hold on a moment," Sam said before rushing off.

"Sam! Get your ass back here and get this… _thing_… off me!"

Dean was pushing ineffectively at the heavy body when it started twitching on top of him. Upon closer inspection, he realized the arm was reaching weakly for the head, which was still facing him. The eyes were following the feeble motions of the arm.

"_Sam!_"

"What?"

"It's not dead yet." Dean watched warily as the hand crept closer to the amputated head. "Crap… I think it's trying to reassemble itself."

"_What_?" Sam called from across the clearing.

"It's trying to fix itself!"

Dean stared in fascination at the disassembled vampire parts that were working hard to find each other. His breath whooshed out in a relieved huff when the head went flying out of reach of the questing fingers.

"_Ow_!" Sam howled, clutching at the foot he'd just used to kick the vamp's head.

"It's like stone, isn't it?" the girl asked.

"Yes," Sam and Dean replied in unison.

"Hard as granite," Sam mumbled.

"Tell me about it," Dean grunted, futilely shoving at the solid body still crushing him. "A little help?"

Sam and the girl rushed to Dean's side to help remove the vampire's heavy form from atop him. When he was finally free, Dean inhaled deeply, pushed to his feet and took a quick inventory. Nothing was broken, although he was sure he'd have a bevy of bruises the next day. He then turned to the girl.

"And you are?"

"Bella Swan."

"And you know this guy," Dean indicated the headless vamp, "how?"

She sighed and ducked her head. "It's a long story."

"He wasn't a… _friend… _was he?" Sam asked warily, eyeing the girl.

Bella's head snapped up. "No. Obviously. I mean... I think he was gonna kill me."

"You think?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Bella scowled at him, but didn't respond. All three were distracted from the conversation when the decapitated body began dragging itself toward its head. Again.

"That is so… _wrong_," Dean muttered. "Don't these things die?"

"I think we need to burn it," Sam finally said. "Remember the legend? Only fire was able to destroy the Cold One completely."

They quickly collected some dead-wood from the woods, then lit a fire next to the stone figure. Once it was burning brightly, Dean tossed the head into the flames and nudged the burning wood onto the body. A sickly sweet scent filled the air.

Bella shivered even as she stood by the warming blaze. "The Cold Ones…" she murmured.

"Yeah. Vamps. The undead. Blood—"

Bella cut Dean off. "I know what they are. I'm familiar with the legend."

"You are?"

She nodded. "My best friend is a Quileute. He told me the story ages ago. Of course, I was also in love with one…"

The brothers stared at her for a moment. Then Dean nodded.

"Of course you were. What's not to love? Good looks, super powers, the promise of immortality…"

Bella flinched. "It wasn't like that."

"Wait… You _dated_ a Cold One?" Sam asked.

"I told you it was a long story."

"This I gotta hear," Dean snarked. "Is that how you know him?" He indicated the now-charred body.

She nodded. "But not in the way you think. Ed—er… my… ex… _boyfriend_… killed a member of his coven when he threatened me."

"So do you know why he's here now?" Sam asked.

Bella turned to Sam with fearful eyes and nodded.

"He was looking for me."

**~tQatD~**

"What do you mean he was looking for you?" Jacob asked incredulously.

After Laurent's body burned, Sam, Dean and Bella returned to Billy's. Since Bella had inside knowledge of the vamp—and why he'd been in the area—the brothers felt it was imperative that she share the information. They were now sitting at Billy's kitchen table. Bella had just dropped her bombshell.

"He said it was a favor to Victoria."

"Who's Victoria?" The question was in stereo; Sam, Dean, and Jacob all asked simultaneously.

"She's the mate of the vamp that Ed-Edward killed."

Jacob frowned. "Why'd he kill him, anyway?"

"Do you remember last spring when I was in the hospital in Phoenix?"

Jake nodded.

Bella rubbed absently at her wrist. "I didn't fall. Victoria's mate, James, attacked me."

Jacob reached for her hand. "This is your funny scar, the cold one."

He looked at it closer, with new eyes, and gasped.

"Yes, it's what you think it is," Bella stated. "James bit me."

"But if he bit you… ? Shouldn't you be… ?" He choked.

"Edward saved me."

"He prevented you from changing?" Sam interrupted.

Bella nodded and extended her arm, showing Sam the scar. "He sucked the venom out—you know, like with a rattlesnake. Then the Cullens killed James."

"And now this Victoria wants you?" Sam asked.

Bella nodded.

"Why?"

"Laurent said she thought it was fairer to kill me than Edward. Mate for mate. She didn't know—still doesn't know, I guess—that… that… things aren't like that with us anymore."

Jacob was distracted, his face torn between several expressions. "Is that why the Cullens left?"

Bella nodded. "I'm nothing but a human, after all. Nothing special," she explained, shrugging weakly.

"Wait…" Dean interrupted. "'Mate?'"

Bella shrugged again. "He told me that when vampires fell in love, it was for life. Obviously he lied. A few months after he told me that, he left me. He told me…" She swallowed thickly and wrapped her arms around her torso. "He told me he didn't want me anymore. That I wasn't good for him. That I was just a 'distraction.' Then he disappeared. I haven't heard from him—any of them, actually—since."

"Let me get this straight. The vamp left, because _you_ weren't 'good enough' for him?" Dean asked.

Bella nodded.

"What a dick."

Jacob grunted in agreement.

"Well, Laurent is dead now, so he can't report on your whereabouts," Sam stated. "Maybe that will be the end of this."

Bella frowned. "I hope it's as simple as that…"

"But…" Sam prompted.

"These vampires were cruel, and Victoria's obviously holding a grudge." Bella smiled, but it was humorless. "Lucky me."

"We don't have anything lined up right now, so we can stay for a while," Sam stated. He turned to Billy. "We'll need to talk strategy. You were right… that vamp wasn't like any we've seen before; he was almost impossible to kill. Do you have any other information that could help?"

"I'll call another meeting," Billy said.

**~tQatD~**

"I don't like this." Dean scowled as they drove back to the motel. "We're working with a bunch of amateurs here. It's gonna be harder keeping those boys from getting themselves killed trying to 'help' than it will be to hunt another bloodsucker. Not to mention, we've got _bad_ history with girls named Bella, Sammy. If you remember, we ended up in jail full of demon-possessed people a few weeks back because of one. This feels like a bad omen."

"We don't know if there will be any more trouble," Sam said. "This _could_ be the end of it."

"When is a single kill _ever_ the end of trouble with vamps?"

Sam sighed. "Never."

"Damn straight. Especially when we know there's a coven. I'm not sure this is the kind of trouble we want to get mixed up in."

"She needs our help, Dean. We can't just walk away. Not yet."

Dean huffed. "I know. I just have a feeling that this will come back to bite us in the ass…"

**~tQatD~**

"Maybe you were right," Dean stated as he shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

A week had passed, and Dean was itching to get back on the road. There'd been no suspicious activity around Forks since they'd killed Laurent, and he was getting tired of daily powwows with the Quileutes. He was also worried about becoming a familiar face in the area—in a town this small, it was impossible to remain anonymous.

"About what?" Sam asked.

Dean wiped syrup from his chin. "That one vamp being it. There's been no trouble, unless you count the pups from the rez mucking everything up. We couldn't find a trail if our lives depended on it with those boys running through the woods every freaking day, looking for 'clues'."

Sam sighed. He understood Dean's frustration, but he had a sense it wasn't over yet.

"Just a little longer?"

Dean scowled. "One day. I'll give you one more day, Sammy. If nothing happens—"

A man wearing a jacket with the name of a local sporting goods store burst through the door and looked around wildly. Spotting the police chief sitting at the counter, he hurried over.

"There's been another one, Chief," the man whispered agitatedly.

"Another what?" Chief Swan asked.

"Death. In the forest. I just received a frantic radio call."

The chief frowned, set his coffee mug down, and stood up from the counter. Their conversation continued as they passed Sam and Dean's table on the way to the door.

"Where is it?" the chief asked.

"Up north, a few miles into the park."

Sam and Dean looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Dean dropped a twenty on the table before they followed the men out the door. The police cruiser was pulling out of the lot when the brothers slid into the Impala. Following at a safe distance, they tailed the chief to the latest scene. Flashing their fake badges when they arrived, Sam and Dean walked to where the coroner was examining the body.

"What we got?" Sam asked authoritatively.

"Not sure, exactly."

The scene was again grisly, the dead body twisted at an awkward angle implying an unnatural death. No blood was evident this time, although the body had been drained. Sam shot Dean a knowing look when the coroner discovered a hickey-like bruise on the victim's neck. It was small enough to not arouse suspicion in the medical examiner, but the Winchesters knew better. Sam tilted his head, and Dean nodded in response.

"Vamp?" Sam asked.

"Sure looks like it, although the MO is different this time." Dean glanced at the ground. "This one took better care to cover its tracks, too."

Although they searched extensively, they couldn't find a clear trail. However, this attack site was fifteen miles closer to the town of Forks than the last.

"I think we can assume where it's headed," Sam stated hollowly.

Dean nodded in agreement.

**~tQatD~**

The past four days had been overly hectic; Sam and Dean had begun hunting in earnest. Unfortunately, the boys of the reservation kept getting in the way. Now that they all knew the legends were true, the young Quileutes were excited to embrace their destiny. No matter where Sam and Dean went, they were followed by kids wanting to learn about hunting.

Sam was torn—the boys were more trouble than help, but he understood their desire to gain the skills necessary to protect their loved ones.

Dean was just pissed.

"Not again," he grumbled as a twig snapped in their wake. He rolled his eyes and spun around to confront the boy who'd just darted behind a tree. "Jacob. Get your ass out here."

Jacob stepped sheepishly from behind the tree and onto the rocky sand of First Beach.

"You shouldn't be here, Jacob," Sam stated.

"Why not? This is my fate, too. I need to learn."

"This isn't amateur detective hour," Dean stated. "These are very real, very nasty vamps. You need to leave this to the professionals."

"But how will I learn if I never see anything?"

"It takes time," Sam appeased. "But we have work to do, and we can't do our job if we're constantly worrying about you guys."

"I won't be in the way, I promise."

"You're already—"

Dean's words trailed off, and he snapped his head to the side. It was too quick for the human eye to see clearly, but he detected movement in the trees behind them. He saw a flash of red and felt the wind scream by as… _something_… streaked past them.

"Jacob!" Dean called.

Sam wasn't watching the young Quileute, who fell limply to the ground. He was staring at the figure of a young woman standing atop the steep face of the cliff on the other side of the bay. "No!" he shouted when she stretched out her arms and jumped. Then he was running down the beach toward the water, watching where she submerged. She never resurfaced.

"Shit."

Sam flung off his jacket and shoes, waded into the cold water and started swimming. When he reached the place where she'd gone under, he took a deep breath and dove. The current was strong. He let it carry him, hoping it would take him to her. His lungs were just beginning to burn when his fingers tangled in something silky. Hair. Giving a gentle tug, Sam reeled her in. Once his other arm banded around her chest, he kicked for the surface.

Sam hauled the limp body of the girl to the beach. It was Bella, and she wasn't breathing. Pinching her nose, Sam blew air into her lungs. On the second breath, she gasped and coughed up a mouthful of water.

"Sam?" Bella sputtered as Sam helped her sit up.

Bella's teeth chattered from the cold. Sam rubbed her arms briskly in an attempt to warm her as he took inventory. Other than her almost-blue lips, she didn't appear to have sustained any damage.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asked angrily. "Killing yourself won't make this all go away."

"I wasn't…"

"Then what?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?"

"What it's like."

"What _what_ is like?"

"The loss, the pain. I'm tired of this hole in my chest, the constant, aching sting. It's the only thing that's real anymore. I just wanted—no, _needed_—to feel…" Bella's voice trailed off and she coughed roughly.

Sam stared at her in astonishment for a moment, then laughed harshly. "You might be surprised…"

"What?"

Sam ran a hand through his wet hair. "You're not as alone as you think."

Bella frowned.

Sam huffed in response to question in her eyes. He'd only meant to comfort her; the sudden need to… _unburden_… himself—to a virtual stranger, no less—came as a surprise.

"I know loss, Bella. Look at what we do. Hunting… _things_… that no one should ever see. We've encountered evil you can't imagine! It's tainted every aspect of my life, taken those that I love. First my mother. Then my girlfriend. My father. Soon, it'll take my brother… And there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"Dean?"

Sam nodded.

"But he's alive and here with you."

"For now."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that in two months, he'll be gone. And unlike your situation, it _will_ be my fault."

Bella's frown deepened. "What do you mean, gone?"

The words burst forth before Sam could stop them. "He's going to Hell because of me!"

Bella eyed Sam skeptically. "How do you know that? And how would it be _your_ fault?"

"He made a deal with a demon: his soul for my life. And in two months, the bill comes due. "

"You can do that? Barter your soul."

Sam's head whipped around at the tone in her voice. "Don't get any ideas."

"I won't. I promise," she assured. "I don't want to die. Honestly. I'm just… stuck here. He's gone and never coming back. But I still remember, and I can't get past it. It's stupid, but I need the hurt, the pain." She ducked her head and whispered, "He comes to me in times of peril..."

"Comes to you?"

"Hallucinations, I guess."

"Bella, it's not real."

She sniffled. "I know."

"But _she_ is. And she's here. Now."

"Who?" Bella's eyes went wide with understanding. "Victoria?"

Sam nodded. "We were tracking her on the other side of the beach when I saw you jump. Jacob…"

"What happened to Jacob?"

"I don't know, but he's hurt." Sam pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Bella. "We should go find out."

She nodded and placed her hand in his. Sam pulled her to her feet and they backtracked down the long beach. They stopped to retrieve Sam's shoes and jacket, which he draped over her shoulders.

"Thank you."

Sam turned to Bella. "For what?"

"Saving me."

He nodded. "No problem." A few steps later, "Thank you, too."

"For what?"

"Listening. I don't talk about my life very much. Most people have no clue what we do, wouldn't believe us if we told them. And I can't talk to Dean about… well… how _I _feel."

Bella threaded her fingers through Sam's, surprised by the comfort she gained from the gesture.

"It's okay. If anyone can understand, it's probably me. I'm surprisingly good with the strange and supernatural."

A smile twitched at the corner of Sam's lips. "Yeah, I gathered that."

**~tQatD~**

"You like her," Dean stated when they left the hospital several hours later.

They'd taken Jacob to the ER; the collision with Victoria had knocked him out cold and broken his right arm and leg. Bella was staying for a while longer; her father would drive her home later.

Sam fidgeted. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do." Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "I saw you holding hands on the beach."

"Whatever."

"You don't usually go for the young ones, Sammy."

"Shut up, Dean."

"She _is_ eighteen, so it's not like you're doing anything illegal…"

Sam's jaw clenched. "It's not like that."

Dean grinned widely. "Then how is it?"

"We just talked. She's going through some shit, I'm going through some shit. She just… _understands_… okay?"

Dean's smile faded. "You talked. About what?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. What did you tell her?"

Sam huffed.

"You didn't…"

Sam fidgeted uncomfortably in the seat.

"You did," Dean stated incredulously.

"So what?"

"So what? Sam… We don't talk about our lives. It's not safe. It's also none of her business."

"Well, Dean, I'm glad you can just shove it all to the back of your mind and ignore it, but I can't. Bella was hurting today, needed to know she wasn't alone. And you know what? So did I. It sucks being us sometimes. It's lonely and dangerous. And for the first time, someone we met already knew about the evil we're hunting. So, yeah… I talked. "

Dean eyed Sam carefully then nodded slightly. "Fair enough. Just be gentle with her, okay? She looks fragile, like the slightest wind would knock her over."

"She's stronger than you think."

Dean fired the engine. "I sure hope so, Sammy. I have a feeling she's the key to whether this hunt succeeds or fails."

**~tQatD~**

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Bella? You don't have to—"

"I'm fine, Sam. This was my idea, remember."

"No, this was _Dean's_ idea."

"He just mentioned that we needed bait. _I_ was the one to offer myself. And he was right. _I'm_ the one Victoria wants, so _I _should help end this terror."

"If you're sure…"

"Do we have a better option?" she asked.

"Not really."

"So it's settled."

Several days had passed since the day at First Beach. Sam and Bella were now walking in the woods outside the reservation, a safe distance from town, laying a trail of Bella's scent. The plan was to draw Victoria here and ambush her, ending it once and for all. Bella and Sam were still arguing mildly about the plan when she tripped and fell, scraping her hand in the process. Blood pooled in her palm.

"Here, let me see." Sam reached for her hand. "I think I have a band aid…"

Bella pulled her hand back. "No. I have a better idea." She began pressing her bloody palm to nearby rocks and tree trunks.

"Yeah… that should agitate her."

"Exactly. We need every advantage we can get. Distraction is a great ploy. Dean's at the spot, right?"

"He should be."

"Good," Bella stated as she pressed her hand to one last tree trunk. "Let's go. Don't want to get caught unawares."

"Too late…" a high, tinkling voice taunted.

They looked up to find Victoria standing by a tree Bella had marked. She swiped her finger over a splotch of blood and raised it to her mouth. "Mmm," she hummed. "You taste exquisite. I will thoroughly enjoy this. Where's Edward?"

Bella's arms wrapped around her torso, but she lifted her chin in defiance. "Didn't you hear? We broke up. Edward's gone."

Victoria looked taken aback. "That's too bad. I wanted him to see this. But it will still be satisfying to kill you without him." Her eyes slid to Sam and her lip curled malevolently. "Your new boyfriend can watch instead. Then I'll kill him, too."

Bella reached for Sam's hand, gripping it tightly.

"I've been waiting for this moment for quite a while." Victoria's grin morphed into a grimace. "A year is nothing when you'll live forever, but it's been the longest year of my life. Without James…"

A snarl sounded across the clearing. Sam began to edge backward.

Victoria's head cocked to the side. "Where're you going?"

"We have someplace else we need to be," Sam said as he pushed Bella behind him.

"Your friend, up by the cliff?"

Sam halted.

The evil smile returned. "Oh, I know all about him. Don't worry, I've sent someone to tell him not to wait for you…"

Sam was staring at Victoria when a hideous scream echoed through the woods.

Victoria's smile widened. "Guess he got my message."

"_Dean_!" Sam yelled, dropping to his knees. He turned deadened eyes to Victoria. "That was a mistake. I'll destroy you for killing my brother."

Victoria's laugh tinkled throughout the clearing. "I don't think so." In less than a second, she materialized at their side. "How are you going to destroy me? I'm immortal. You're nothing but a weak, pathetic human. You're just a toy." She licked her lips. "A snack…"

Victoria's hands were suddenly on Sam's head and shoulder, stretching his neck for easy access. Just as she leaned in to bite, Sam reached into his pocket and extracted the small spear. A screech filled the clearing when he jabbed her arm with it. Victoria's breath halted on a wheezing gasp, her hands falling to her side.

"How… " she rasped.

Sam raised his hand, revealing the sharp tooth, which was coated in thick, dark liquid.

"Dead man's blood."

Victoria continued to gasp and wheeze, her body slumping to the ground.

Sam turned to Bella. "Time to go."

"But…"

"This wasn't part of the plan, Bella. I need to find my brother."

Leaving the vamp writhing on the ground, they ran, taking a circuitous route to the rendezvous point. Bella stumbled to a halt before they reached the tree line, her hand covering her mouth to prevent a scream. Sam rushed to the body lying in the underbrush. He almost gagged at the gruesome sight—blood was everywhere, spewing from a ravaged neck, and the head was lying at an unnatural angle, dead eyes wide in shock. At the same time, relief washed through Sam.

It wasn't Dean.

"Oh, Seth…" Bella murmured sadly as she fell to her knees at Sam's side. "What was he doing here?"

"I don't know."

Bella flung herself into Sam's arms, sobs racking her body.

"Bella. We have to go," he whispered.

"What… Why?"

"He's here."

Bella lifted her head and looked around. Her eyes widened when she spotted the blonde-haired boy standing in the center of the clearing. Even without the blood dripping down his chin, she would've known he was a vampire—his skin sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight and his eyes glowed bright red.

Victoria's messenger.

They began inching backward, hoping to escape unnoticed. Then Bella stumbled on a fallen limb and crashed to the ground. The vamp's head snapped in their direction, a low growl sounding in his throat. Sam grabbed Bella's arm, hauling her to her feet.

"Run!" he shouted.

Bella knew escape was impossible, but she followed Sam's instruction, allowing him to pull her through the foliage. She heard the vampire behind her, closing the distance. A gust of wind rushed by her ears just as something slammed into her from behind. She screamed.

Then everything went black.

**~tQatD~**

"Where the hell are you, Sammy?" Dean muttered as he back-tracked through the woods.

He'd heard the scream a few moments ago and rushed to the clearing expecting to find the worst—Sam dead. Instead, he found another vampire killing one of the young Quileutes just outside their targeted hunting zone.

This wasn't good.

They hadn't devised a back-up plan. They hadn't realized they'd need one. They hadn't planned for two vampires either. That changed things.

Dean slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers wrapping around the heavy, wolf-hair rope. Bella was supposed to have led Victoria to the clearing and then served as a distraction as Sam ambushed her with the spear. Once she was immobilized, Dean would use the rope.

He wasn't sure what to do now.

Dean headed in the direction from which Sam and Bella were supposed to be coming. Instead, he ran directly into the red-headed leech. She was leaning against a tree, breathing somewhat raggedly. Dean noticed a dark blood-like stain on the milky-white skin of her arm—Sam had obviously cut her with the spear. Dean rushed forward, pulling the rope from his pocket. She sidestepped his attack, knocking him to the ground, but she stumbled in the process, still affected by the blood.

Pushing himself to his feet, Dean ran back the way he came. She followed. Dean had just stepped into the clearing when he was hit from behind. He fell to the ground, rolling over. Standing above him, Victoria sneered.

"I don't know what that was," she nodded to her arm, "but I'm still strong enough to kill you. Then I'm going to kill your brother and Bella."

A scream sounded nearby, and a smile spread on Victoria's lips.

"Unless Riley's taken care of them already."

In less than a second, Dean was pinned against a tree. He was struggling against the bloodsucker when a horrifying screech filled the area. It was a sound he'd heard once before—when Sam decapitated Laurent. Suddenly, Dean was dropped. It was as if an invisible force had bitch-slapped the vamp. He watched, confused, as she flew across the clearing and crashed into the sheer rock face. Then she hung there, suspended. Her infuriated growls and screams led Dean to believe that she was not there of her own free will. Pushing himself to his feet, he spun around, looking for who—or what—it was that held an age-old vampire captive so easily.

He didn't have to look long.

She sauntered into the clearing, hauling something. Dropping it just inside the tree line, she propped one hand on her hip. The other remained suspended, obviously the source of the invisible force holding the vampire captive.

"Ruby," Dean stated coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your asses. Again."

"We would've been fine. I have a plan," Dean grumbled.

Ruby laughed. "A _plan_, huh? That's what you call this? Great plan, Dean. Fighting the Cold Ones? Do you have a death wish? Oh wait. That's right. You already signed your life away. Well, Dean, if you want to end up in Hell a bit earlier than planned, by all means, be my guest. But don't jeopardize Sam in the process."

"She has a point," Sam said wearily, as he emerged from the trees behind Ruby.

Dean clenched his teeth. "Shut up, Sammy."

"I obviously have some… _skills_… you lack." Ruby reached down and yanked the still-wriggling body of the decapitated vampire into the air. She curled the fingers of her other hand. Victoria screamed in anguish. "So what's it gonna be? You guys want my help or not?"

Dean hated being wrong. Even worse, he hated being outsmarted. By a _demon_, no less. At the same time, Ruby _did_ have a point. Nothing in this fight had gone according to plan, and they could use help. It was hard to admit, though.

"Or, maybe you'd prefer that I release the bitch? Let you resume your… _plan_?"

"_Dean_…" Sam growled.

Dean scowled at his brother in return. "Fine," he agreed through gritted teeth.

With Ruby immobilizing the vampire, it wasn't difficult to separate her from her head. Dean took pleasure in wrapping the thick, hairy cord around her neck and yanking as hard as he could. "Suck on this, bitch," he muttered when the rope finally bit through stone flesh.

Sam started a fire while Dean dispatched the bloodsucker. Grabbing the vamp's head by its long, red hair, Dean hauled it to the fire. It was still screaming, jaws snapping, when he tossed it into the flames. Ruby did the same for the vamp she'd dismembered. For a moment, they stood side-by-side, united in victory.

"Thank you," Dean muttered between clenched teeth.

"No problem," Ruby replied. "That's what I'm here for. Apparently."

Dean suddenly realized that Sam was nowhere in sight. "Sam?" he called.

"He went to collect your… _bait_," Ruby informed.

"Did she see you?"

"Of course not! I'm not stupid."

"Just making sure she didn't see anything she shouldn't have."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "That girl _fell in love _with a vampire, Dean. I think she's probably seen more that most humans should."

Dean hated that she had yet another point. "Well, _you_ are not a 'vegetarian' vamp, and I don't need her thinking all evil things are actually good. She's too trusting—and curious—to begin with."

"Curiosity did kill the cat…"

Dean scowled at her.

Ruby sighed. "She didn't see anything, Dean. I knocked her out."

"And just how did you 'knock her out'?"

"Oh, don't worry. I doubt there's any permanent damage."

Before Dean could respond, they heard sounds coming from the woods. With a rush of wind, Ruby disappeared, just as Sam stepped into the clearing, toting a groggy, but obviously conscious Bella.

"You okay?" Dean asked her.

She nodded. "What happened? Did you get them?" Bella scrunched her nose. "Ew…."

Dean grinned. "I just _love_ the smell of toasted vamp in the evening, don't you?"

**~tQatD~**

It was late Sunday evening when Sam and Dean drove Bella home. Sam escorted her to the door. When they reached the porch, Bella sat down on the top step, indicating that he should do the same.

"I guess it's over, huh?"

"You're sure there were only those three in the coven?" Sam asked.

Bella nodded.

"They're dead. You're safe now."

"I'm not sure if I'll ever really be safe again." She sighed. "I know what they are, what they want, the danger they can be. And while those vampires are gone, there are others…"

"Yes, there are."

For a moment they stared at each other in companionable silence. Then Bella leaned in and kissed Sam on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For saving me. And for helping me _feel _again."

Bella ducked her head. A blush crept up her cheeks, but she needed to say what was on her mind. She'd learned her lesson about not saying what she felt—the moment might pass without another opportunity ever arising. She glanced up from beneath lowered lashes. The warmth she saw reflected in Sam's eyes caused her blush to deepen.

"For the first time in more than six months, I feel alive. I owe that to you."

Sam smiled. "I feel like I owe you a 'thank you', too."

"For what? I almost got you killed. Multiple times. All because my _vampire_ ex-boyfriend made a few enemies." Bella laughed. "God… that sounded so weird. I've never said that aloud, you know. 'My vampire ex-boyfriend.' None of my friends would believe it, not that I'm allowed to tell them…"

Sam reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Bella's ear. "Well, I hope that you consider me a friend, and I believe you." A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "That said, I think we should keep this whole vampire thing under wraps. I'm not sure the world is ready for that much truth yet."

"No?"

"Definitely not."

"Agreed."

Her smile faded. "As a 'friend', can I say something to you?"

Sam nodded. Bella glanced to the Impala. Dean was sitting behind the wheel, singing along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

"Despite what you think, you're _not_ responsible for Dean's choices."

Sam jerked in response. "Bella, you don't under—"

"_Yes_, I do. It's not exactly the same, but I know how you feel. I see the way you look up to him, the way he looks out for you. It reminds me of…" She paused and turned to look at Sam. "_He_ did the same thing to me. Made unilateral choices without consulting me about them first."

Sam's jaw clenched, and Bella knew she'd touched a nerve.

"For a long time, I've blamed myself for all that went wrong. I mean, I obviously wasn't enough for him. That's my fault, right?"

"Of course not!"

Bella nodded. "Exactly. Dean made his choice. Not you. Maybe he made it _because of_ you, but it's not your fault—you didn't ask him to do it. So make the most of the time you have left. And when he's gone, honor the memories. But move on. Live your life. Don't do what I've done. Don't be bitter. Don't give up on life."

Sam had grown increasingly stiff as Bella dispensed her advice. She reached over to cup his cheek, turning his face to hers.

"It's okay to be angry, Sam. To hurt. You wouldn't be human if you didn't."

His hand suddenly captured hers, holding it tight to his face. Screwing his eyes shut, he leaned into her touch. Then Sam buried his other hand in Bella's hair and drew her mouth to his. The kiss wasn't sweet or gentle. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced—needy and relentless. There was no caution taken; Sam poured every frustrated emotion into this particular outlet, his lips rough on hers, his tongue invading her mouth and demanding an equal response, which she freely gave. When he finally pulled back, Bella was breathless.

"Wow."

"Sorry," he apologized, reaching up to soothe her kiss-reddened lips with the tip of a finger.

Bella shook her head. "Don't be. I'm not. _He_ never kissed me like that."

"He didn't?"

Bella shook her head. "He couldn't. Or wouldn't…" She shrugged. "Just another choice he made."

Sam's eyebrows pinched in confusion. "But you were in love. Didn't you…"

"No. No! It wasn't like that. Again, his decision. He was very… _proper_. He wanted to wait."

Sam was astounded. "For what?"

"You know what?" She laughed wryly. "I have absolutely no clue. It's surreal to look back on it all now."

Sam reached for her fingers and squeezed gently. "Will you be ok?"

Bella nodded. "I will now."

"Good."

"I know a part of me will always miss him. A part of me will always hurt, will continue to crave the pain just so I can feel _something_. But it's the naïve part that didn't see the truth and refused to see the danger." Bella clenched her jaw. "Of course, it doesn't matter now. He's off living life happily somewhere without me, so it's only fair that I do, too. Right?"

Sam nodded.

"I think I should probably take my own advice. Something else I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything, Bella."

"Yes, I do. When real danger appeared, _he_ wasn't the one to save me. I didn't even imagine him this time. I didn't have to. I had you." She smiled. "So, thank you. Again."

Sam leaned in and bumped his forehead to hers.

"I won't forget you," he stated.

Twisting her head, Bella brushed her lips against his one last time. "I won't forget you, either."

Sam stood up and smiled sadly at Bella. "I have to go."

"I know."

Sam looked torn, so Bella stood and laid a palm on his cheek.

"It's okay, Sam. Don't worry about me…" A smile curled at the corner of her lips. "I have a history of falling for older men who leave me. I'm used to this." She waved her hand around, indicating their awkward goodbye.

Sam laughed. It was an honest, open, humor-induced sound. Warmth spread through his chest, leaving him feeling content for the first time in a while.

"Thank you, Bella."

Her smile widened. "No problem."

Dean honked the horn. "Time to go, lover boy."

Sam rolled his eyes. He reached for Bella's hand, squeezing briefly before he turned around and jogged down the stairs. He waved before sliding into the car. Bella waved in return, watching as they backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. When the tail-lights finally disappeared, she entered her house, a smile on her lips.

Charlie looked up as Bella headed for the stairs. "Who was that?"

Bella's smile widened. "A friend."

**~tQatD~**

**Epilog**

In a remote cabin in Alaska, a beautiful blonde woman screamed in agony. Her mate was dead. She had no proof, but she sensed his loss with every part of her being. It had been over a month without word. He'd been gone for three months, but had checked in every day or so or the first two months. Since then, silence.

She didn't know what had happened. But she vowed to find out. And when she discovered who had murdered him, she swore they would pay.


End file.
